Untitled
by AD
Summary: shonen-ai - How Dilandau deals with Miguel's death


The idea of this fic is based on the Chinese tradition of burning objects so that their departed loved ones would enjoy earthly luxuries while in purgatory awaiting to be reincarnated. This I found out after watching the Nic Tse Stephen Fung movie "2002". Thanks to ZK for watching it with me.  
  
For koi.  
  
XXX  
  
It was Chesta's turn to guard his captain. It was Lord Folken's idea. He doubted that if Sir Dilandau knew he would have allowed it. Or perhaps he knew but didn't care. Ever since Miguel- ever since the Chied raid he had grown more withdrawn... and frightening.   
  
Chesta shifted his feet uneasily. His master was scary before, even before he got the scar, but he always knew what he was doing. But now...   
  
"I'm sorry Lord Folken but this is your worst idea ever." If the captain did something crazy how was a mere soldier like himself going to stop him?  
  
"Hey stranger."  
  
Chesta almost jumped out of his boots at the intimate sound in his ear and the hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Dalet! You scared me."  
  
Dalet snorted. "Worthless guard you are."  
  
Chesta did not really have any illusions about his skills. "I know." He hung his head.  
  
Dalet held his chin and tilted it upwards. "Hey, don't be like that." He bent his own head to bestow the other a kiss but Chesta took a step backwards.  
  
"Not now. I'm on duty."  
  
Undeterred, Dalet followed him. "But i missed you." His hands were already journeying southward. He caught Chesta before he could retreat further and gave him a very thorough kiss. At the end of it Chesta's blush could be seen even in the dim light. Dalet surveyed his handiwork with a lazy half-smile.  
  
"You shouldn't have done that."  
  
"Like Master Dilandau cares." At the mention of their captain, both reflexively glanced to where he should have been sitting in front of the fire. There was no one there.  
  
"Oh hell."  
  
XXX  
  
Dilandau sat alone on the window's ledge. The stone was cold at his back. His long coat was open and was flapping in the night breeze. To his right was a wine bottle and glasses. There were two.  
  
He poured wine in both. He struck a match, careful to shield it from the wind, and dropped it in one of the glasses.  
  
While the flames roared and danced in the glass, he raised his own in a toast.  
  
"For you, love."  
  
XXX  
  
Dalet followed Chesta along the corridor. There were a lot of things he'd prefer doing in these dark corners with Chesta but he couldnt hide the fact that he was nervous too.  
  
"You saw him do what?"  
  
"Burn Miguel's clothes. Everything. His uniform. His boots. Even his underwear."  
  
They all knew that their captain was somewhat of a pyromaniac, but this was taking it too far. They thought he would have kept Miguel's things as mementos.   
  
"And you know what he said?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"He said, 'I don't want him to be cold.'"  
  
XXX  
  
"I wanted to kill them, you know. For doing that in front of me."  
  
"I know. All of us have so little time."  
  
"You were the only one who could understand me."  
  
"All of them. They thought I hated Van for destroying my face."  
  
"The sorcerors could have easily removed the scar."  
  
"Only you knew it was a blow to my pride, and not my vanity."  
  
"Now, I have more reason to hate him."  
  
XXX  
  
Damn this fortress. It felt like they were walking for hours. A few paces ahead of him, Chesta stops.  
  
He sighs. "I miss Miguel."  
  
Dalet frowns suspiciously. "Why?"  
  
"He always knew how to handle the captain. We're going to have a harder time now when the captain is back to normal. _If_ he does go back to normal."  
  
Only Miguel would dare say something insolent in front of their captain, even when he lost his temper, which was often. Dilandau would order him to his office for punishment. Everyone knew what really went on there, if Miguel's tired but smug face was anything to go by.  
  
"You're right. I miss him too."  
  
XXX  
  
"Gods, Miguel. I miss you so..." And for the first time in days he let the bitter tears run. His chest hitching in hiccuping sobs.  
  
Dilandau reached reflexively out towards the glass' fading warmth, as one who would seek out the hand of a loved one for reassurance. An errant wind blew the flames to his sleeve. Dilandau stared calmly at his quickly engulfing sleeve and nodded as if he had just heard a good idea.  
  
XXX  
  
"Over there! Look!"  
  
Outside a window, like a roaring torch in a dark hallway, their captain was brilliantly illuminating the night.  
  
XXX  
  
As they carried their commander to the infirmary, Chesta could not take it anymore and burst into hurt tears.  
  
"Why did you do it, Captain? We need you to lead us. How could you do that to yourself?"  
  
Dilandau was staring sightlessly ahead. They thought he hadn't heard but he murmured,  
  
"Burn... myself... for Miguel..."  
  
XXX  
  
It was a difficult week for the Dragonslayers. They always found an excuse to be near the wards. They never spoke above a whisper, and no one ever laughed out loud. They would want to approach the bed, to comfort their bandaged master, but in the end retreating for they knew none of them could ever do so.   
  
They were not Miguel.  
  
XXX  
  
It was right after lunch when they saw their captain once more standing. He strode in the mess hall, boots scraping the cobbles, and was nonchalantly pulling on his gloves. They were gaping in astonishment. He ignored them.  
  
"Prepare to move out in ten minutes. All Dragonslayers to their Guymelefs." He turned around and started to walk away.  
  
As expected, it was Chesta who blurted out, "But- where are we going, master?"  
  
For a split second, everyone panicked. They would all be surely punished for Chesta's indiscretion. But their captain looked back and there was a gleam in his eye, and a hint of a grin. He looked... happy.  
  
"We're going to burn down Asturia." 


End file.
